Important Note: I am not condoning or supporting Robin Williams' decision to commit suicide; I merely refuse to condemn him for it. Anyone suffering suicidal thoughts needs to seek help. If you live in the US you can call 1-800-273-8255. If you live in another country please look up the number to call for where you're at.

Most of August 11th was a good day for me. I awoke feeling kind of low, took a shower got lunch and headed to the gym to work out. When I got home, I was feeling damn good. Then I saw a post on Twitter mentioning Robin Williams and the words "in memory" and thought, "Is there some Internet rumor or hoax going around about him being dead?"... and then I found out it wasn't a rumor... then I found out how he died. After decades of struggling with depression and or bi-polar disorder, one of the greatest comedians of the 20th century and arguably in human history succumbed to dark thoughts and awful urges.

I was hit with a plethora of emotions by the news... I'm still trying to process it all. The biggest emotion I have to deal with is empathy. At times like this, some are tempted to say "There but for the grace of god/fate/the flying spaghetti monster go I". The truth for me is there's no "but for the grace"... just "There go I?" hanging over my head like a storm cloud in the sky. I hold no ill will towards Robin Williams for hanging himself, because it's all too easy for me to understand why he might have done it...

In popular culture it's common to see stories of people pushed to the point of suicide by circumstances or machinations. The characters who go through so many horrific incidents that they no longer have a a life good enough to be worth living. While this does happen in real life, it's less common that we'd like to think.

Feelings of worthlessness and despair that often accompany suicide do not need a minimal level of misery to exist. There is no required external catalyst for wanting to die. The worst thing is that wanting to die isn't even the worst part of mental illness. There's a soul crushing despair that can set in which takes root and goes deep. I can declare, from experience, that it's possible to go weeks, months even years without feeling suicidal while still being in awful pain.

I've had people explain to me that crazy people don't know they're crazy, because you have to be sane to know you're crazy. The kindest response I have "THAT'S FUCKING BULLSHIT!" because any words less abrasive are a lie. It's akin to telling someone "You can't really be aware of having the flu. Only people who think they're healthy have the flu." Just like the body, the mind can be so obviously unhealthy that everyone, including the person it belongs to, knows it. Yes, it's possible to be insane and not know it, just like it's possible to be sick with a viral disease and not know it. That doesn't mean that it's the only way to be sick.

The most important step in addressing the huge mental health problem in the US, is to get rid of the toxic attitude that treats depression as some kind of earned privilege or trophy. The cultural attitude that someone doesn't have a horrible enough life to deserve sympathy for being depressed ties directly into the idea that mental health is an active choice and can't be anything else. Recognizing depression as a mental illness means one must also recognize that wealth and fame do not grant immunity from that disease.

As fitting as it would feel to use a Robin Williams clip for each entry, the video above has a quote by Neil Gaiman that is very important to this subject. For those who can't watch it right now, the quote is "The first problem with any kind of even limited success is the unshakeable conviction that you're getting away with something."

Neil's right. I won't say how much money I make with freelance writing, but the simple answer is that it's not enough to keep a roof over my head. It's supplemental income that greases the wheels of suburban comfort a bit. Still, I sometimes do wonder if I'm earning my keep. If you've never created artwork but have friends who do, and if you've ever wondered why they get awkward when complimented on their work or even try to minimize the compliment, it's because they have the unique knowledge of how good their work isn't as opposed to how good it is. We know how good we wanted it to be, all that other people get to see is how close we got to what we wanted.

Back in 2007 I was at Eugene Pride and I saw a rapper on stage named Katastrophe who sang a song called Halfway Happy with the following chorus:

You're halfway happy with a hole in your heart
You think that someday you'll fill it and you'll feel that part
But you waste countless hours
And priceless days
Hoping that somethin' will save you
As you watch your life slip away

This guy knows what's up. He spoke of a deep truth that affects the lives of billions. For artists and entertainers, the thing a lot of us hope will fill the hole in our lives is fame and fortune. The fact that Robin Williams hung himself shows that at least for some people, success is not a cure what for ails us. Watching the video of Gaiman talking about his own struggle believing that he deserved his success, it's not unreasonable to think that Williams's problems with bi-polar disorder, depression and various other factors may have been exacerbated by a sinking feeling that he didn't deserve the acclaim and wealth that he'd amassed through the application of his talents.

Williams spent years getting treatment for his problems and in the end that treatment didn't salve his emotional wounds any more than the fame. It's incredibly heart-wrenching to realize that a lot of people who commit suicide never even find out if therapy could have worked for them because they never took that step. One of the many reasons why some people don't take that step is because...

8. Getting Help Is More Terrifying Than Staying Broken

It's never too late to seek out help or fund those who make help available

My first serious battle with suicidal urges happened in 1998. During this dark time, I pulled a prank on a friend/gave a cry for help. I had him convinced that I had taken a lethal dose of sleeping pills. As he was walking me out the house and down the street to the hospital to get my stomach pumped, I told him the truth in the most hurtful way I could. The fact that he even talks to me at all anymore is something that I've never stopped being extremely grateful for. When he told me that I needed to get professional help, even knowing that he was right and being so grateful to him... it wasn't enough for me to overcome the fear of therapy.

There are a lot of things wrapped up in that fear. A big part of it is the fear of getting locked up inside a loony bin and never coming out again... but that's not the worst part of the fear. Another big part is that it won't work. If a guy like Robin freakin' Williams couldn't get permanent success, how the hell can I hope for anything better? And that's not the worst part of the fear either. The worst part, at least for me is contemplating the answer to the most horrifying question of my life... what if it works?

Maybe this is something that other nerds feel, but I've always suspected that there are such things as emotional stability, and being well adjusted, and that I don't have those things. If I were to go to a professional and find out that I have a psychological condition, that is something I would know forever. Whether or not I did anything to resolve it, I would know a new fact that would forever change my state of life. I might decide to go get some help from a therapist... and then what?

Mental health services are a valid, vital and necessary institution in human society. Therapy works. I don't just believe that, I know it because I've seen it work for people. The ignorant and widespread belief that people can just magically erase their conditions through the power of positive thinking alone, or that they need the one true social cure (whether it's religion, love, family or what the fuck ever) is one of the most destructive memetic parasites to ever latch onto the collective consciousness of humankind. I honestly and wholeheartedly believe that therapy can help ease my problems and help me to manage them...and that scares the fuck out of me.

When I picture the potential future me that is a well adjusted and emotionally healthy person... I'm not picturing myself. I'm picturing someone who isn't me anymore. I'm picturing someone who will take my place when I stop existing as who I currently am. This fear creates the ultimate "fight or flight" sensation. I can't get over the terror of thinking that in order to get well, I must give up some essential part of my true self. It feels like my very existence is threatened by a better version of me.

When looked at in such terms, I think it's easy for people fall into the common trap of thinking of suicide as the ultimate act of cowardice, but here's the fucked up part...

Courage is not an inherently good thing. Courage is not something that should be idolized. It can be a destructive force of harm. People who strap bombs to their chests and go kill other people are not cowards; they are examples of what happens when courage is used for awful ends.

This is not a validation of ending it all, by the way. It's important to understand a problem in order to solve it. Without acknowledging that Robin Williams may have had more courage than most people can ever comprehend when he did himself in, the effort to spare others the same fate will be an incomplete endeavor.

One of the greatest people to ever try to help his fellow man is Dr. Jack Kevorkian. Most people are unaware that he's a great painter because Kevorkian has a much bigger reputation as the doctor who created a machine that helps terminally ill patients to end their own lives and ease their suffering. There's a seemingly wide amount of distance between ending one's life because of a physically painful and debilitating disease, and doing so because of mental anguish. Without getting into the question of which is the greater or lesser form of suffering, society needs to address the question of whether or not people have the right to decide that decision for themselves. Outlawing suicide, for any reason, is the ultimate expression of the idea that a person does not own his or her life. If we as human beings want to value freedom, then it's important to know how valuable it truly is.

If I ever have a disease like cancer, or a degenerative flesh eating virus, I might decide to stick it out and go the distance because I love life that much. Even if I did make that choice, I'd still want the option of choosing. By the same logic, if someone is suffering mental anguish so severe that they want to bring their life to an end then it has to be asked how society can justify telling him or her no. Part of answering that question depends on whether or not that suffering can be alleviated to a non-detrimental degree. With proper help and treatment it can, so far as I know. In a situation where it cannot though, I don't know what to think. As I've said, I don't advocate suicide, but at the same time I don't feel justified in telling another person that they have to go on suffering.

Too often suicide is dismissed as being possibly only in a moment of cowardice. Having stared into the abyss I can tell you right now that one of the reasons I'm still here is that I'm not brave enough to die. That doesn't make me feel better, though, because it just means...

There's nothing quite so devastating as feeling like a coward for not killing yourself. It feels one with the kind of despair that would be easier to convey through a song (like the one above) than through a normal conversation. The hopelessness of feeling like you're better off dead but lack the balls to make things better.

I think a big part of the life of a nerd (at least from my generation) is wrapped up in feelings of cowardice, the path of least resistance and regret. We get so much flak from the world and from ourselves for not living up to what is expected of a normal and rational person. Every great and painful regret in my life stems from something I was too scared to do. All of the best pleasures stem from things I did. Refusing to commit suicide is the one act that falls into both categories. Being unable to let go of regret for not killing myself is sometimes in direct conflict for the relief that I'm still alive.

Nothing gets under my skin more than the idea that people might think of my decision as "brave". My decision to remain alive is no braver than the decision of a domestic abuse victim to stay with his or her abuser. The difference is that it's my own mind abusing me and I'm not brave enough to leave it through therapy or death. I know in the rational sense that death is not the answer. I'm aware that dying will solve nothing. Sadly, knowing something, and being aware of it, is a very different thing than believing it!

I don't know how to convince myself that I'm better off alive, and the frightening thing is that there's no real limit on how long I can go without solving that problem. See, it turns out...

More links from around the web!

He did not want to burden his family with the Parkinson's disease-sure Micheal J. Fox has had it, but he got it at age 30 very different than age 63. I am a Hospice person- and have watched people BEG me( if they could still speak) to kill them. It is a horrible disease,and dementia plays a big role in many cases. It is also very painful. I would not want to be a PD sufferer,shitting all over and drooling etc at the end- and not even recognizing myself in the mirror. I applaud his decision. It may not be everyone's decision but it was his- and we should respect it.

Having followed Williams' career since the 70's, it was not really surprising that his world finally came crashing down around him. He was a troubled man who knew how to make everyone laugh but himself. However, the reality is that most of us don't really know anything about this man. He's an actor, a media creation that the majority of the world has only seen on screen. If he was anything like most actors in Hollywood, he was most likely a very fractured individual. Show Business is full of creative personalities that don't live like average human beings. Many are really disconnected with reality. Most of the actors that I personally know are very colorful characters (which in layman's terms means,they're kind of nuts.)

Even those closest to Mr. Williams really didn't know who Robin Williams was. Most of the people that we work with and see on a daily basis are practically strangers. We may think we know them, but do we really truly know who they are? Do we even know ourselves for that matter? Because I'm still discovering new things about who I am all the time.

Williams unlike most of us was an extremely successful man and made an exuberant amount of money doing something that he enjoyed. In the scheme of things, he lived better than most of the human beings that ever walked on this planet. He had an amazing forty years living the life of a celebrity and in total, 63 years; most of them probably being pretty good years from where I'm standing. 200 years ago, the average man was lucky if he lived into his mid 50's. I do understand because of Williams' celebrity status and being such a high profile individual that his death has generated lots of discussion.

However, there are many unsung heroes out there that live good decent lives and work extremely hard with very little to show. There's hardly ever any discussion about the contributions that they might have made to society because the reality is, that many of us are simply invisible. We're really not all that important, we might not matter or may not even have purpose.

If Robin Williams wanted to check out at 63, there is no judgment here. I'm sure he had his reasons. He seemed like he was probably an extremely intelligent and intuitive human being. At 63, he had done it all, had seen the world and experienced things that most of us will never get to do. I imagine he looked at a world full of people who really haven't evolved all that much emotionally since our very beginnings. We're still just a bunch of naked animals that feel angry, jealous, arrogant, vengeful, etc. The majority of adults, behave like small children. There are times when it's still survival of the fittest. Of course Williams hasn't had to live in the world that most of us reside in for a very long time. His fame and financial status could always afford him an unlimited number of distractions so he didn't have to endure the real world.

Having to deal with Parkinson's disease and depression couldn't have made things any easier for him. As they say, if you don't have your health, you don't have anything. So the thought of having to live in discomfort for another 25 years or so, probably really didn't seem all that appealing to him.The physical aches and pains of growing old are frustrating enough, not to mention trying to maintain ones sanity. All men will eventually die, but not all men will truly live...metaphorically speaking that is. Williams was living life in the fast lane and living large for a good part of his life. Hopefully he knew how to slow down from time to time to smell the roses. He was definitely a one of a kind and apparently was a generous man who brought joy into many peoples lives. I suppose we can feel a little uneasy for a while considering all of the times he lifted our spirits.

I don't think his death has really, truly hit until today. Robin Williams was a god of comedy in my childhood, right next to Jim Carrey, Mike Myers, and Dana Carvey. He was such a huge influence on my humor that I doubt I'd be the person I am today without him. The sad thing is, I haven't even seen all of his classics like Mrs. Doubtfire or Good Morning Vietnam!. Hell, I've only seen one of his more serious works, and that was Bicentennial Man. I'm going to spend the next few weeks watching his movies to remedy this.

As far as my own stories of depression, I honestly don't know if it's real depression or not. I suppose that's a common problem. I do know that for a lot of my life I've felt that everyone around me would benefit from my being gone. I believe that all I've ever done is mooch off of my friends, family, and loved ones without giving anything in return, at least nothing of real value. Especially during college. This also leads into broken childhood dreams. I'd always wanted to be a paleontologist. Ever since Jurassic Park. All of my life whenever someone asked "what do you want to be when you grow up?", my automatic answer was "PALEONTOLOGIST!" Then I got into college. It was then that I realized that A, Geology, a necessary course to take to become a paleontologist, was boring as all hell to me, and B, even if I became a paleontologist I'd never be able to support myself, much less my fiancee. So my only college year was spent in classes I didn't like, wasting my parents money on fast food, and mooching off of my boyfriend. The thing that finally made me drop out was the death of my step-grandfather.

One of the worst things is how everyone still supports me after all this time. I almost wish they would hate me instead of allowing me to do what I do. The worst part though is knowing that I do these things and being scared to try and change. After 22 years of life I still hate myself. Sometimes I truly, deeply loathe myself. And I've definitely contemplated suicide, especially in college.

But I don't really want to die. It's always the love of my fiancee that brings me back from the brink of despair. And I thank him every day for it.

It's strange. I have been horribly saddened by this. Robin Williams made a huge impact on my life as he did for so many others. I have been crying over it, and then I immediately scold myself because I feel like I have no right to grieve him in such a way. He wasn't MY family, and I feel like I don't deserve or have the right to grieve his loss. Zelda and Cody must be so traumatized.

At the same time, I feel like I can *almost* relate. My own father is dying of cancer and suffers from dementia at a young age. He was always a stern figure, and he rarely cracked a smile. Robin Williams was his favorite comedian and the ONLY one I ever saw him laugh aloud for or even crack a smile for. A Robin Williams movie-viewing with the family was always a special occasion because it opened up a softer side of my dad.

Because of dementia, my father keeps finding out over and over that Robin Williams is dead, and his recurring heartbreak is unbearable. The most frightening thing is that my dad has relapsed into alcoholism, and when he's in his right mind, it's not "right." He wants to kill himself. He wants help to kill himself. He just wants out.

My father has suffered from depression for a long time, and I think the only reason it didn't harshly affect myself or my family is because of that stoic personality. Now, I'm realizing he was just bottling everything. But he's suffering mentally. He's terminally ill. He WANTS to end it.... and I can't blame him.

I don't want him to go. I love him. I already miss him. But he's suffering so badly, and there is no escape at this point. I can't blame him.

I related my own story in other Williams threads, but I'll retell it here:

For about 20 years I was in a relationship that caused me to feel great depression. As the years plodded on, I felt worse and worse. I gained weight because I was convinced that nobody cared anyway. I was isolated (at first against my will, and later because I was convinced it was pointless to have any friends), and I suffered both physical and psychological abuses... And I was terrified to leave. Not even five years ago, I was in a truly dark place, ready to die, looking my worst, feeling my worst, and hating my job, my life, and my living situation.

And then I found my best friend in the world. My hero. The love of my life. She gave me strength to do what I needed to do. She didn't pull me out, but she made me feel good enough that I was able to pull out of the bad situation. She gave me moral support. Family gave me a little financial support (needed at first, because I gave up almost everything I had to get away from that life). After a while I was out, free, and standing on my own.

After that, I found that day after day, I felt more and more alive. Every day I thought I was feeling the most alive I ever could, and each day with her made me feel even better than the last. I'm now getting the medical help I've been needing (physical ailments, not psychological, in my case) and I have a job I love. After I left that dark place, I was able to publish a book, a CD, and find a home that made me happy. I accomplished SO MUCH once I found the light at the end of my personal tunnel.

And my point is this: Just five years ago, I was a mess, I hated myself, and every day I contemplated dying as an escape. I was depressed beyond anything I can comprehend today. I don't know how I made it! But I did. In such a short time, I went from feeling the terrible and suicidally depressed, to feeling the happiest I've ever been in my life.

If I had cashed in my chips back then, I'd be missing out on the wonderful life I have now. I love my life! What a shame if I had missed this BIG CHANGE, and it was JUST around the corner! What a waste if I had given up when a year later, I'd be on the way to happiness!

There's always hope... There are always wonderful moments in this life to embrace and cherish. There may be a lot of pain and suffering, but those moments in the sun are SO worth the wait, the slog through the horrors, and the long path out of the dark woods.

First, THANK YOU! I totally relate to everything you said, and stuff like this is not said enough, by a longshot. I only started getting help about three years ago when it got really bad, and after all that I have only been what I would consider well for about two weeks, then I heard the news about Robin. I crashed and felt more miserable than ever, but it was for a reason this time. He was and is my idol, I grew up watching him and memorizing his stand up.

In light of recent news I think his reasons are becoming more clear, bear with me here.

He recently found out he had early stage parkinsons. That dramatically changes you, the way you move, your speech, your entire life. Robin Williams has been known for his energy and quick wit, like a comedic humming bird. If he were to go on with the fight all of that would change. Would people still accept him? Would he be able to get roles and tour? Would he be the same Robin people know? Probably not. So take those questions and add the Mjolnir in the chest that is depression... All seems a bit clearer now, at least to me. I feel like he didn't want people to remember him like that, not that we want to remember what happened anyway but the flip side of seeing him decline doesn't seem too attractive either.

Also, the fact that he started with a knife and either could not do it or thought that it would be too much for someone to witness, for instance if a family member discovered him, but then chose a belt says a lot about his state of mind. As mentioned in the post, it is not uncommon for depressed/Bipolars to feel like they are being a burden to others, I know that first hand. He knew people would grieve and that photos would probably end up on the internet so he chose a clean way.

Depression and Bipolar disorders are NOT taken seriously by most doctors. The until I finally found the right one they all treated me like I was drug seeking. Its like they have to feel like they discovered your illness to accept it. If you go in saying you did research and here is what you found, do they agree? They basically shut down like you are telling them how to do their job. We pay these people SO much money for crap service.

Hopefully I don't take up too much room here and I didn't offend anyone. Thanks for reading my soap box.

This remind me of a friend of my moms . He was parlayed from the neck down and was in a hospital bed for over 30 years. His health took a turn for the worst and to top it off he was getting his teeth cleaned and the chair malfunctioned. He shattered about half of the vertebra in his back and he took this life shortly after . His name was Bill White I think he was in the news a few years ago in some article on assisted suicide. This article brought back some memories of this guy i understand why perhaps as Williams did he felt this was the only way to end the suffering.......

This is a really good article. The only comment I would make is to encourage the author to get therapy. Therapy doesn't change who you are, it just gives you some new options for how you see yourself and others, and in the best case teaches you how to care for yourself in ways that make things better. It made a tremendous difference to my mother, who was manic-depressive, and I know it helped me through my divorce. It didn't change who she was, it just let her tap into aspects of herself that she didn't know how to use before.

I used to work with a young woman who was a typical party-girl. Her drinking was starting to effect her work, and I was encouraging her to find a different path. At the time, what she said really struck me: If I don't do this, who am I?

So often we can't see any other 'self' for ourselves--what is known is what we can deal with (at least we think we're able to deal with it). We're too frightened to imagine what else we could be, whether that's something 'good' or 'bad.' I believe fear is really a product of the dark. I think knowing and seeing yourself in the light, strengths and weaknesses, is much better than wondering and doubting and fearing.

But I also understand that it's a process, and we all march to different beats.

I had been depressed for a very long time. i didn't have many friends growing up, and while my childhood wasn't necessarily hard it wasn't easy either. My mother had/has a drinking problem and would ridicule me, my father, and my brother over various things. weight, intelligence, work ethic, even if things weren't true. Police showed up at my house at least once a month due to domestic disturbances. I supposed this falls in to the mental abuse category, and not having many friends (or any really) made life difficult to traverse through, and also made me an easy target for bullies, which, only piled on top of my mothers bullying. Eventually, senior year, I made a few friends and had even begun to look forward to college. I thought college would be better! and I went to an art school, so going in I saw there were many others like me, outcasts, geeks, nerds, people who were picked on, and I still never really fit in with any of the groups there. Art school had just as many selective cliques as high school did. And again, I was left out of most groups. I had made a few friends, but I was never invited to any parties or social gatherings, it was mostly "in class" type of friends, never "Hey lets go to the bar" type of friends. I eventually met a girl, my first girlfriend, she lived a town over, and meant the world to me, after a year of dating she cheated on me, and somehow twisted it into being my fault.

I had been holding back all the pain and anger and suffering for nearly all my life, and then with this one incident I lost control. I went from 215 pounds in 2002 to 410 pounds by 2006. I masked my pain and sorrow with food and alcohol. I didnt know how to turn it off, and soon food and alcohol wasnt enough, especially once whatever friends I had stopped hanging out with me in 2006. I began to cut myself and was contemplating suicide, it scared me, enough to the point to talk to my doctor about it, he gave me some numbers to call, but I never went to seek help, I then soon stopped seeing my doctor who was legitimately trying to get me help.

Then there was a big event in my life that began a change, it wasnt medication, or therapy, but was infact life hitting me in the face with ugly truth. The day before my birthday in 2007 I received a call from my grandmother, she told me she had a birthday card for me, so I stopped by after work, she sat me down and had a long talk with me, she was worried, she knew I was sad and depressed, she wanted me to know that she loved me, but that she was also disappointed in me, she said I was missing out on too many wonderful good things in life, that I was letting things pass me by, she said that nothing on this earth is permanent and that the last time I had visited her was over 4 months ago, even though she lived 10 minutes from my house walking distance. She told me she wasn't going to be around forever, no one is, to make the most of our time here on Earth or leave it. I gave her a big hug and told her I loved her, and that I would visit tomorrow (on my actual birthday).

The next day my Aunt called my father, who called me, my grandmother was rushed to the hospital, she was dying, she stayed with us for a few more days, and I say stay in that I 100% believe she left on her own accord. She said "I just want to say good bye to everyone, and then I will be leaving" She said her life was good and happy, she knew we were all in a good place, and she missed her husband (my grandfather) When it was my turn to say good bye I apologized to her, she told me I had nothing to be sorry for, but just told me to remember it is my choice to be happy or sad.

It was one day just gone, I don't know if I was ever truly depressed, or if this one event was enough to make my brain switch its way of thinking? I mean I believe I was, many other people had confronted me about it in the past as well, but it wasn't until my grandmothers death, a few days after telling me that the time we have here on earth is precious and short, that I decided I didn't want to be sad anymore.

For years early on in my depression people told me to get over and myself. I couldn't. Then, one day, I was able too. I appreciate the final gift my grandmother was able to give me.

I've only told this story to a few people, but for some reason your article made me feel compelled to share my story. Things may never get better for some, but I do want people to know that it is possible.

Ok, let me say first (as someone who has suffered depression and even attempted suicide) that your article hits the nail on the head, particularly about the cruelty involved with telling someone who is in that state about how it'll make their loved ones feel (and that it's often a cruelty that the one going through that dark time inflicts on themselves near constantly). When it was happening to me, even when it was my own thoughts saying it, all I could think was, "Why is there suffering so much worse/so much more important than mine?"

That being said (and I know this is probably going to spark some hate), one of the things I hate to hear people say the most is that there is never any reason to end one's own life. That statement comes from a really poor Judeo-Christian view of things and fails to recognize the reality of the fact that there are times and places where the outlook is so bleak, so bereft of even an unreasonable hope of improvement, that the best (not saying positive, merely best available) option is to end it entirely. It does happen, and when I hear people saying that the person had other options or demonizing them for it, I feel nothing but contempt for their disrespect towards a person who they could not possibly understand. One's life is one's own, and the decision of what they are willing to allow to continue, what they are willing to suffer through before it is too much, is one's own and nobody has the right to judge what another person can bear.

Aack, I'm going to stop there because I'm starting to tear up a bit, this is a bit of an emotional issue to me. Let me end by saying this: Mr. Williams, you made my childhood and gave me and so many others so many years of laughter and joy, and I am so sorry that the darkness in your life was too much to bear. May you have peace and rest from your troubles and thank you for the immortal memories you have given us.

I don't usually comment because I don't usually find a lot I like on this site, and I don't want to live my life making others unhappy by being a destructive troll, but I really loved this piece. #8 speaks especially well to my own absolute terror about getting help and, after getting help, actually going on medication (I decided not to and am now stable and doing well on my own, but I certainly keep that in mind as a possible recourse should depression return in force). Great job and thank you for writing with such honesty and publishing such an earnest piece.

I just now got a press release from Robin Williams' wife. It is asked that I run it in its entirety if at all, so here goes:

“Robin
spent so much of his life helping others. Whether he was entertaining
millions on stage, film or television, our troops on the frontlines, or
comforting a sick child —
Robin wanted us to laugh and to feel less afraid.

Since
his passing, all of us who loved Robin have found some solace in the
tremendous outpouring of affection and admiration for him from the
millions of people whose lives he
touched. His greatest legacy, besides his three children, is the joy
and happiness he offered to others, particularly to those fighting
personal battles.

Robin's
sobriety was intact and he was brave as he struggled with his own
battles of depression, anxiety as well as early stages of Parkinson's
Disease, which he was not yet
ready to share publicly.

It
is our hope in the wake of Robin’s tragic passing, that others will
find the strength to seek the care and support they need to treat
whatever battles they are facing so they
may feel less afraid.”

I don't really have much to say that everyone else before me has already done, but this was a great article. As someone who has struggled with depression and despair before (and sometimes still does), a lot of this hit close to home for me. Thank you for writing this.

I was really worried this was going to be because you thought some of his movies sucked, glad it wasn't. Too often i see comments that because a person thinks a movie sucks, the performer/director/whatever should kill themselves.

I've often wondered about the disparity between how much attention the famous and the ordinary among us get for something. When I was in high school, the question was put to my class whether or not we thought OJ Simpson was guilty of the murder he was soon to be on trial for. Some students raised their hands for the "think he's innocent" or "think he's guilty" call. Others raised their hands for the "I'm not sure" call.

I asked "What about a show of hands for people who don't care" and offended most of my class with the question. It was seen as such a horrible thing to not care about that case even after I explained that people die everyday and I didn't feel a need to look at every court case and form an opinion. I didn't know the man or his family or the people he was accused of killing. The one guy who was curious enough to hear me out managed to come to an understanding with me about it, but most people thought I was a cruel or selfish person.

I suppose the same logic could apply to Williams. He certainly had less of an impact on my life than friends and family who's passed over the years... but I cared about that guy because he tried to make the world a little bit of a better place in what small way he could.

@guilmon182 If your friends, family, and loved ones let you mooch off of them, then surely you must have been giving something of value
in return. They must see something special in you that you have yet to recognize. You're still very young. Exploring and trying out new things is a normal process. It's part of growing up and discovering one's true self and purpose in life. It's not a race, people change in their own time as we are all very unique individuals. It's OK to be afraid. Change can be difficult, but if you are able to find the courage to endure your anxiety and continue to push yourself toward the change that you desire, you might surprise yourself at what you are able to accomplish. The anxiety will dissipate over time. Learn to love yourself even for your shortcomings and try to find out what that special thing is that others see in you.

For what it's worth, I didn't start college until I was 27. Even though I'm turning 35 next week and still don't have a degree, I'm glad I waited as long as I did. I knew what I wanted to be and still have the same goal, but I needed some time out of school. Spending the better part of a decade away from that and then having a burning desire to return to that kind of routine made a difference.

If you don't ever go back to school, don't let that define you either. Some of the greatest success stories in life involve people who found another passion in an area they least expected or an old one rekindled after a long sabbatical. There are great artists that entered fields like comics or novel writing after the idea first struck them in their 20's or later.

A favorite phrase of mine is "life's too long" because most of the situations people say to avoid because "life's too short", it's also true that they should be avoided because it's too long. Life is too long to hold a grudge against yourself and it's too long to get stuck on one plan. There's a big difference between hearing and proving it to yourself, but those moments when we learn it ourselves can be precious.

It wasn't just depression, though. He was facing a reality where he would no longer be able to exercise or ride bicycles; The two things he did to stay clean & sober. Those were his anchors, and he was about to lose them. This had to terrify him... The thought that he would lose control of his body, and then inevitably lose control of his mind when he relapsed/fell off the wagon. He did not want his family to suffer his addiction. He did not want to disappoint his friends and fans. He wanted to go out as Robin Williams, the sober, loving man... Not Robin Williams, the drug-addicted, drunk, burden and disappointment. He wanted to go out BEFORE his life had the chance to spiral out of control again, because he had been there before.

Frankly, the thought that he might fall back into drinking or drugs because his Parkinson's would limit his mobility probably terrified him. He made such strides, and now to have a disease assault his chances of remaining sober for his loved ones? That had to be crushing. His depression was a factor, certainly, but I suspect he went out on his own terms instead of letting people find him dead with a bottle, or dead with a coke straw... he wanted to go out with whatever dignity he could muster. He wanted to go out without being a burden to his family.

I can't say whether or not he made the right choice... But I can certainly understand why he felt he HAD to make such a choice.

I do want to make one clarification: I am not endorsing suicide here or saying that its a good thing; if you or someone you know is having thoughts of suicide, please get yourself or them help. So many times such a drastic step can be avoided by dealing with these feelings and thoughts in a more constructive manner. I'm just saying don't hate on or give contempt to someone who gave in to what they couldn't bear, these people deserve our sympathy.

Thanks for sharing your thoughts. I very much agree that sometimes, a person's choice should be respected and I can think of few situations where I would tell someone they were obligated to keep living because of someone else's benefit.

I know what you mean. I tend to find such insults of creative types to be the indicator of an awful person who I wouldn't hang out with. I don't like Michael Bays movies that much, but I have no ill will for him.

Very true stuff. A lot of times, it seems like there's this new cultural imperative that at the age of 18 or 21 we should be fully independent and complete adults all at once. This is rarely the case. It's a process that takes time and that time is scaled uniquely for each person.

For me, it took 6 or 7 years before I started feeling like some sort of adult. My brother seemed to me like an adult at the age of 19, but he started taking on adult responsibilities at the age of 15 or 16 when he became the breadwinner of my household.

Also, I feel like it is better than seeing a therapist. All of the ones I have seen act like Handsome Dan in Wayne's world 2. Then they just basically have you talking to yourself the whole time. I tried and it really didn't do much for me. But to each his or her own.

@LYT All I can hope is that someone sees my story and it helps them make it through another day

@GreggoryBasore Thanks, it was a heavy loss, but it's what she wanted, I fully believe she could have continued on if she had something left to do. She went on her terms. With no regrets or sorrows. And I will never forget that.

If someone really thinks a person can't be talked out of something like that, he or she is selling him or her self short enough that they'll end up in the pocket universe from that Mork and Mindy episode where Mork kept shrinking